Dark Calling (8 page)

He knows it isn’t her fault.  Not two years ago.  Not today.  But she could make his job easier.  Actually allow him to keep her safe.  Sneaking around gets old quick.  Besides the fact that he spends so much time concentrating on hiding from her that he’s afraid he’ll miss something.  Something important. 

Nick makes a quick stop at the little store on the corner.  For such a small
place, they alw
ays have everything he needs.  He g
rabs a bright red basket.  Waves hello to the young ca
shier at the only register and
m
ov
es quickly down an aisle.  Picks up his body wash and t
osses it in the basket.  Keeps moving.  Grabs a four pack of toilet paper.  He ran out yesterday.  A
dds two cans of beef stew
and a large bag of beef jerky.  Stops at
the cooler. 
Looks for the half gallon of whole milk with the longest expiration.  It’s in the back. 
Then checks a package of eggs before placing them gently in the basket.  Nick laughs to himself, recalling the way he checked eggs for his mom when he was younger.  He’d count to verify there were a dozen, not realizing he was supposed to be checking for cracks.  Nobody ever explained
,
so that’s how he did it up until last year when he accidently purchased a carton of broken shells.  The cooler door slams shut and h
e h
eads fo
r
the counter with his goods.

Home is a small efficiency apartment where he lives by himself.  His
black
futon couch doubles as his bed.  This is his only furniture, unless you count the T.V. tray he uses as an end table.  Or the
dresser that doubles as a T.V. stand.  It’s what the apartment came
with.  He bought the rug
. 

Locking the dead bolt, Nick kicks off his shoes.  Put
s
the
eggs and milk in the fridge and d
umps the
rest on the kitchen counter.  He t
ugs his collar and pulls the
shirt over his head.  Cranks the little window open and flips on the fan.  It’s stuffy.  Not as hot as the apartments on the above ground floors, but just as humid.  Ohio weather.  In a month he’ll be freezing. 

He gathers clothes to wash.  Now that he’s back in the charade of school, he has to keep up on these things.  At least he gets to wear his own clothes this year.
With his basket full, he goes back out the door and down the narrow hall to the coin laundry.  Shoves ev
erything into one load. 
Adds what he thinks is enough
laundry
detergent
and d
igs change out of his pocket, d
iscard
ing
a piece of lint
.  He starts the washer. 
That’s it.  There is nothing left for him to do.

Back in his apartment,
Nicks tears open the jerky and sits on the futon.
  He flips the television on
scanning
the channels.  Checks the time on the microwave. 
His knee bounces up and down.  He c
racks his wrist. 
Taps his leg with
the remote.  T
urns
off the T.V.
  Takes a new shirt from the dres
ser and d
rapes it over his shoulder
as he puts his shoes back on.  He p
lucks his keys from beside the toilet paper on the counter and heads back out the door.

Nick’s
phone vibrates inside his pocket.  He slides the clean shirt on and
pulls the phone from his jeans
checking the caller I.D. 

“What’s wrong?” he says.

“Is that how you were raised to greet people?”

“Nope.”

“Mom would freak if she knew.”

“Then don’t tel
l her.  Wha
t do you want Lila?”

“I was just wondering how babysitting
is going to work
n
ow that you guys royally screwed up.”

Nick sighs.  Runs a hand through his hair.  “
I know. 
I was worried about that too.”

“I’m just guessing she isn’t going to be hanging out with Bryon for awh
ile
so we kind of need someone to watch her.  I am also assuming she isn’t on speaking terms with you either?”

“You assume correctly.  I’m heading there right now.  I’ll keep watch to make sure she doesn’
t leave.  I’m guessing she won’t
be going anywhere
without Bryon to hang out with.”  He shifts the phone to his other ear.  Starts the car.

“Pandora Friday.  But Dusty will be there with her,” Lila states.

Nick pauses, his hand on the gear shift.  “We should all go then.”  He closes his eyes.  “Or talk her out of it.”

“She deserves a life, Nick.  You can’t lock her up.”

“Friday is
her birthday.”  He rolls his eyes.  Backs out of the car port.

“Oh.  Yeah.  Sh
e probably shouldn’t go then, y
ou’re right.  Maybe I can talk her into a girl’s night.  Have a slumber party or something.”

“As long as it’s at her house.  That’s actually a really good idea, Lila.”

“Right?  You’re not the only one with brains in the family.”  Nick can hear the smile in her voice.

“Whatever you say.  I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later Icky.”

Nick flips his phone shut.  Keely’s house is only a few blocks from his ap
artment.  That was part of—o.k.
,
the only—charm
of the basement closet he lives in.  He’s pulling to the side of the road at his usual spot after only a few minutes.  He was so proud of himse
lf when he found this place
a couple of
months ago.  He can see most of the house a
nd yard from this vantage point while still keeping
out of sight.

Her car is parked in the same place.  She hasn’t left. 
His eyes move over each window, trying to figure out where she is in her house.  It’
s a little after five
.  She’s probably doing homework
before her parents get home from work
.  That would put her either in her room or the kitchen.  He gazes up to her bedroom window.  The light isn’t on, but she wouldn’t necessarily
need it.  The kitchen is in the back of the house.  In the back corner that he can’t see from here.  He looks up to her window again.  Really it shouldn’t matter wh
ere she is.  She’s in the house
which means she’s safe.  Nick knows this. 

Still.

He
unbuckles himself, pulls his da
gger from the glove compartment
just in case.  Moves toward the house.  H
e h
eads for the back trying to appear as if he has every right to be here.  Lively meets him half way th
rough the yard
.
 
Nick
kneels and pats the brown long haired Shih Tzu
on the side.  Lively smells the jerky on his fingers.  Licks them.  Looks up at Nick like he’s asking if
t
he
re i
s more. 

“Sorry, Lively,” Nick whispers.  “Where’s Keely?”  Lively’s ears perk at the mention of her name.  He trots toward
s
the back.  Stops.  Sniffs the ground.  Lifts his leg.  “Thanks.  That’s helpful.”

“What are you doing here?”

Nick starts, his hand automatically going
for the dagger tucked into his belt.  “What are
you
doing here?”  His shoulders relax.  Hand drops back to his side.

“I was checking on Keely.  She won’t answer my calls,” Bryon says.  His vo
ice is loud as if he isn’t
concerned that Keely will hear him.  Bryon never really seems concerned about anything.

“Everything good?”

Bryon nods.  “Doing homework.”

Nick’s lips twitch. 
He already knew that, didn’t he?
  “How’s Lively keep getting out?
”  Th
e
dog
had wandered back over to them.  Sniffs Bryon’s shoe.  Sneezes.

“I don’t know.  Keely’s probably letting him out.”

Nick shakes his head.  “No.  He was out when she came home.”

“I don’t know.  H
er parents?”

“They’re working.”  Nick kneels.  Runs his hand across the small dog’s back.

“Her parents let him out before work.  Keely let hi
m out now.
”

Something bothers Nick.  He can’
t place it, but something’s off.  It’s like when someone moves something in a room and you know it looks different but you c
an’t figure out why.  It gnaws
at him.  “Keely puts hi
m on the chain,” he says slowly,
more to himself.  He’s trying to work through it.  Like solving a math problem.

“So, he got off the chain.  It’s fine.  He’s a good dog.  He stays in the yard.  And we know she’s safe in the house, Nick. 
It’s fine
.” He looks at Nick like he’s overreacting. 

Maybe he is.  But still.  He goes around to the back of the house.  Sees Lively’
s chain in the yard
where the grass is thin and yellow.  He lifts it.  Runs hand over hand down the whole length of the chain.  It all looks fine.  No reasonable explanation as to how he’
s getting off
.  Nick pats his leg.  “Here Lively.”
  The dog’s
tail wags as Nick checks his collar.  He connects the chain to it.  Walks outside of the thinning grass circle.  Calls Lively again.  Bryon watches all of this quietly and with great patience. 

Lively makes it as far as the chain allows. 
Tries again as Nick whistles, but cannot
go any further.  Nick looks up to the kitchen window.  Sees an empty table. 

He runs to the front of the house.  L
ooks up to Keely’s room.  The curtains move, dancing behind the glass of Keely’s bedroom window
.  A heartbeat later the light comes on.  The curtain
s
move
again.

Nick rushes to the door,
Bryon on his heels.  He tries the door.  Locked.  Bryon’s already moving the third planter pot and snatching up the
spare
key.  He unlocks i
t and Nick rushes past him
taking
the stairs two at a time as fast as he can.  Throws open the door to Keely’s bedroom.  Hears her scream
a second before his eyes find her.

Bryon slams into Nick’s back
not expecting him to come to an abrupt stop.  Nick stumbles forward.  Hits the floor.  Bryo
n falls on top of him.  Nick pushes him off and t
hey both move to their feet.

Keely’
s standing next to her bed.  She’s clutching something in her hand.  Some kind of fabric.  It looks a lot like the skirt she wore to school today.  Nick surve
ys t
he room.  She’
s alone and visibly shaking.  She wears
a look of shock.  She is not
, however,
wearing pants.  Just blue panties and a white tank top.

“What the hell?” she screeches.  Her face is bright red.  Nick isn’t sure if that’s due to anger or embarrassment.

“S
-sorry.  Lively wasn’t-wasn’t on his ch
ain,” he stutters.  “And your curtains were moving.”  Three heads turn in the direction of the window.  The curtains
rustle
, billowing in and out.

“Ah
, vent,” Bryon says, pointing.

“Air conditioning,” Nick says.  He feels like an idiot.  “I’m
really sorry.  I just thought…”

“Get out,” Keely seethes.

“Sorry Keel,” Bryon calls as he backs out of the room.  He doe
sn’t really seem sorry at all.  Nick
backs out next
pulling the door closed.

“Oh man.  You really pissed her off.”

Nick glares.  “
We
pissed her off,” he corrects.

“I told you it was fine.  I specifically recall saying ‘it’s fine.’”  He crosses his arms.  “I think I even said it twice.”

“You followed me.  You thought something was wrong too.”  Now Nick crosses his arms.

“Because you were going all
Colombo
.
  I thought you were actually on to something.”  He shakes his head.  “I’ll use better judgment next time
, Scooby
.”

The doo
r is flung open with such force
it hits the wall with a bang.  “There better not
be
a next time!”  Keely is dressed.  Wearing a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie.  She has it zipped t
o the neck.  T
ryi
ng to hide, Nick thinks.